best shot
by AliceMitch09
Summary: All is fair in love and war. Well, maybe. Excuses, excuses. [PoliceAU; Yancy x OC]


**A/N : So I finally got myself to finish this. This is some grandeur idea after watching Pacific Rim over and over and over again and still not getting over Yancy's death. And then, I did a researched on Diego Klattenhoff, saw that he was on a series, and the same year, I happened on Agents of Shield and then thought of a alternate universe with an alive Yancy in a different scenario, but still the same him. Well honestly, this started out as a drabble. And before I knew it, my fingers went to work and ta-da! This fic.**

 **Per the usual, OC is Filipina. This time, I made use of Miss Universe 2015's Pia Wurtzbach because we're from the same hometown, and she strikes my fancy with those eyes of hers. Originally, I planned on Odette Yustafman or Chloe Bennet. But none of them just fit the image I had in mind for my OC's. (Read: Perfectionist when it comes to my OC's. It's a sickness. Help)**

 **Think of it as my pre-Valentine's gift to y'all~**

 **DISCLAIMER: I own nothing but the plot. Any similar events, places, or names here are highly coincidental and for fiction purposes only.**

* * *

Shots fired in the air, six rounds of them.

The shooter – slim, with a sharp jaw line, naturally tan skin, dark brown hair tied in a messy ponytail - probably dry because she didn't bother to wash it, sharp and inquisitive chartreuse eyes behind safety goggles – stopped, but didn't drop the gun just yet.

From where she stood, she could see that out of the six shots she fired, only four hit the mark. Dropping the gun, she let out a deep breath, her shoulders sagging.

Unloading the empty magazine, she grabs the new one (of the few many) off the table behind her, reloads her gun and lifts it up, almost as quick as lightning. She waited for the targets to position before pulling the trigger.

Shots once again rang in the air; she didn't bat an eye, keeping her eyes on the target.

Five out of six this time, better than her last one. Still, she wasn't satisfied.

Dropping the gun, she removed the protective glasses off.

She had a good aim, but she was a sloppy shooter. This was the comment from her instructor at the academy – albeit, he had said it only after _someone_ had noticed it first. It had left a mark in her record.

Taking the earmuffs off her ears, she turned her head to the side, hearing the bones popping, and then rolled her shoulders.

What a way to jumpstart her day, and it was only six in the morning! She was the first one in the station, per the norm.

She closed her eyes, resting her hip against the table, smoothing the ends of her ponytail.

"Arroyo."

She yawned – having only slept for four hours – lazily turning her head. "What?"

He chuckled at her manner of recognition, leaning against the doorway with his hands on his pockets. "Good morning,"

Rolling her eyes, she sets the earmuffs back and trades the practice gun for her own, adjusting the holster and mildly ignoring the man watching her. The man watched her in interest.

He had always teased that she was the type whom, if you asked the wrong question, her eyes would silently judge you and look like she's had enough of your filthy presence. That she had such a discriminative and intimidating stare. It was almost impossible to please her; more or less get to her good side. The "death eye" – as he called it jokingly, was set to her advantage.

"I'd take you had a rough night?"

She growled, hating him for bringing it up.

"Don't start." She said warningly, throwing him a hard look.

Hissing lowly, he beckoned on. He was always the curious one.

"So?"

Sighing exasperatedly, she grabs her jacket and practically throws her hands up. "I scolded him shit, alright?" He watched her with cool blue eyes, reminding her sometimes of the sky the sun was about to set into. "My dolt of a brother got into a fight, nearly getting Paddy involved. I was then called by their principal, for what seems to be the umpteenth time, afterwards, when we got home, I lashed out on him all night, and the idiot just had the gall to talk back to me. We were practically stirring up world war three in there, waking up and scaring Paddy in the process. I'm surprised our landlady didn't kick us out with all the racket we pulled up!"

As the oldest of three – her father dead when she was 13 and her sickly mother at the hospital – the weight of responsibility bore on her shoulders. Life hadn't been exactly easy for her. But Martina Arroyo was a fighter, she never backed down.

Having said enough, she dropped her hands to her sides and calmed her breathing. Pinching the bridge of her nose, her eyes closed, she could still remember her youngest brother's face drenched in tears, afraid and confused at why his two older siblings were screaming at each other. Then there was Gale, always up to no good, resulting to his fists. Why must he always be so fucking reckless? What would their mom say when she heard about this? It were times like these when she needed her dad, he was the real peacemaker in the house.

His voice cut through her thoughts, breaking her off her thoughts.

"How about we get some donuts?"

She stared up at him ludicrously. There was a smile on his face, kind and assuring. He knew she absolutely craved them first thing in the morning.

"Then we can stop by Mrs. Arroyo for a visit." A visit to her mother, it always did ease her nerves. She looked up to his assuring grin – _tight,_ but assuring.

Releasing a heavy breath, she nodded.

Without a word, she shrugged her jacket on and headed for the door. She can't help the smile forming on her lips, even as she tried to hide it. He wordlessly followed after her, grin still on his face.

Yancy Becket.

He always seemed to know her better than she knew herself.

* * *

 **8:56 pm**

Breaking into a sprint, while occasionally running through with apologies through the crowd, her eyes sharply locked on a particular man. Her eyes hadn't left the man she was apprehending since moments ago.

He was fast alright – she'll give him that, but he didn't know these streets.

He ran clumsily into people while searching an alley to escape to. Unfortunately for him, not all alleyways in this part of the city had a clear exit, they were all dead ends.

She smiled to herself when he picked the wrong alleyway, watching him stumble to the ground.

Taking the gun from her holster, she raised them up, a dangerous glint in her eyes.

"Alright, hands where I can see 'em asshole!"

Raising his hands in surrender, the man turned, snickering then at the sight of her. She hated that look he was giving her. "Watch your mouth there girlie, I ain't afraid to-"it happened so fast that the last thing he remembered was the pain in his arms.

"And I ain't afraid to castrate you alive," she said back, already twisting his arms painfully on his back, pinning him against the brick wall. "so choose your words wisely, _asshole_."

Groaning in pain, with his cheeks pressed against the wall, he said. "Would you stop calling me that?"

"What? Asshole?"

"YES!"

"Seems pretty fitting, don't you think?"

"Why you-"

A siren wailed, followed by the sound of an engine sounding off.

"Alright, Arroyo, break it up." Yancy calls, walking up towards them, cuffing the man's hands.

"Can't help it," she steps back, putting her gun back. "the asshole's got a mouth."

"For the last time-"he tried to argue, only to groan in pain, leaning forward.

"And for the _second_ time," she jeers, twisting her knees onto his crotch. "I ain't afraid to castrate you alive."

Yancy laughed, already used to his partner's spunk. _Always so feisty when on the field_ , he thought.

"Sir, if I were you," they began to walk towards the police car. "I'd choose to keep my mouth shut. You _do_ have the right to remain silent; anything you say can or will be held against you."

It surprised the man how Yancy was so calm as opposed to his partner, telling him his Miranda rights in a subtle, yet smugly manner. He was supposed to get him for it, but the look in his piercing eyes told otherwise. Plus, Yancy was bigger in build compared to him; the strong grip on his arms already told him that he was not to be messed with.

Opening the car door, he tucked the man in; shutting the door close, he then turned to his partner with a hardened look.

"What?" she asked defensively.

His look hardened even more, but he chose not to say anything. Instead, he settled for a little smirk as he walked around the car. Rolling her eyes, she got in the passenger seat, glaring at him as he settled in.

"I rather didn't like that look."

The car roared to life, but he didn't move the car just yet. He leaned towards her, taking her by surprise, and put on her seatbelt. Settling back in his seat, he put on his own, smiling – smirking, really.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." he managed to say, the car backing up and smoothly running through the streets.

"Yance–,"

He chuckled, angering her even more.

" _Marty_ ," he parroted back.

With the two went back and forth at each other, albeit in a strange way, the man watched the two and couldn't help but think if the two were involved with each other romantically. He asked, leaning towards them, which turned out to be a mistake when the woman elbowed him through the separator. He swore she broke his nose.

"Mouth. Shut. _Asshole_."

Manning the wheel, Yancy stole a glance at his partner and smiled.

Always the feisty one.

* * *

Grabbing some peanuts, she pops them into her mouth before slumping into her seat. It were times like these where she could really use a day back in her place – her slumping against her couch, a book in her lap, some chips and a can of cold beer. Yeah, she could use a day-off.

Then again, she loved her job, committed to it even.

Her phone – work phone, rang. She picked it on the second ring, helping herself to another heap of peanuts.

"Arroyo."

 _"Hey Marty,"_ says a small voice, making her smile.

"Hey Paddy," swallowing her peanut, shifting the phone in hand as she leans back into her seat. "what's up?"

Patrick, or Paddy (as she fondly called him), was her ten-year old little brother. He was the youngest in the family and was a total sweetheart compared to his older brother, Gale, who was such a troublemaker.

" _Oh nothing, I'm just calling from the hospital. Mom's asleep and I didn't want to bother her by watching TV_." See? Such a sweetheart.

She laughed. "I can see that. Did you walk all the way from school?"

" _No, I came with Gale actually. But he dropped me off because he said he was going to miss class_."

And by classes, he was probably talking about those after class kickboxing lessons.

Gale was her other younger brother, nineteen (just five years younger than her) and in college taking up Fine Arts. He wanted to be a tattoo artist. He was also an occasional rascal, giving her a headache time-to-time – for intentional and unintentional reasons. He means well, but he had a temper much like her. (And she thanked the gods that Paddy took after their mother in terms of patience and tolerance)

"I see," she hummed. "Listen, after my shift, I'm gonna come over, okay?" there was a knock on her cubicle, three short taps, revealing one Yancy Becket. She frowned when she saw him, even though she was still on the phone. "I'll bring us some take out."

 _"Can you get pizza?"_

She smiled, shaking her head even though he can't see her. "Yeah, sure, I'll grab some pizza. Not sure mom's gonna be happy though." They both laughed at that, including Yancy, having sensed who she was talking to.

 _"Alrighty then."_

"I'll see you later."

 _"See you Marty, I love you!"_

"I love you too, Paddy."

Putting the phone down, she set her elbow against her desk and leaned against her palm. The picture of her family catching her attention, making her heart clench.

"Thank god you were blessed with much younger siblings. They're less of a handful."

Martina laughed lightly, stretching from her seat.

"Yeah, but only Paddy being that he's ten. Gale on the other hand," she groans into her palm at the thought of her rowdy younger brother. "is the cause of the silvers in my hair."

"Huh, really? Didn't notice."

She rolled her eyes at him.

"Anyway," sitting straighter, she turned to him inquisitively. "need anything?"

"Oh, nothing, just thought I'd check up on you."

She raised a brow at him, frowning. "Seriously?"

He chuckled. She groaned inwardly. Did she mention he had a manly chuckle? "Yes, seriously. You've been on the edge lately, Arroyo."

She scoffed. "Gotta live on the edge sometimes, keeps the adrenaline rushing. It's what keeps me going."

"One of these days, you're going to need a break."

"Someday, but not today." Leaning against her seat, she looks out beyond her partner, who's standing right in front of her, and out of the window. "It's a big city, we live in, and there are assholes always around the corner and we have to move on the clock. Somebody's going have to do something, might as well be me." Scooping another handful of peanuts, she pops them into her mouth before directing her eyes to him. "So what do you really need?" wiping her hands on her jeans, she keeps her chartreuse eyes locked on his. "It must be something. But it's definitely something."

Crossing his arms over his chest, the blond man gave her a smile.

"Why're you smiling like that?"

"Is it wrong to smile?"

"More like it's starting to creep me out." She said consciously, shifting in her seat.

The corner of his mouth twitched, making his smile a little crooked. Well, it was more of a smirk now. Yancy was absolutely delighted with the knowledge that he still had that effect on her, despite her hard exterior.

Going around her cubicle, he leans over, resting his chin over his hands. "Oh, and by the way, chief wants to see us about that case we were working on."

Well, that was something. A good thing!

Instantly, her eyes widened, sparkling to life.

"Well why didn't you say so!?" she was practically dashing out her seat towards the chief's office.

As she by passed him, he couldn't help but admire her determination, her willingness and her grace. Smiling – genuinely, this time – he slowly followed after her.

* * *

Yancy Becket and Martina Arroyo were more or less the star of their precinct, the cream of the crop. Both, having graduated with honors and top of their class – Yancy was first, Marty being a close second (which up to this day still annoys her, because he was a nobody, whereas she was a high school valedictorian).

It was no secret that the two were equally skilled in what they do. They're strong, even on their own, and they complement each other – Yancy, being the cool and level-headed one, and Marty, the hot-headed and feisty one.

It was also no secret either that there was, or _had_ , been something going on between them. This, of course, has been left open by the two who refused to say a word.

During their academy days, the two started out on the wrong foot. They could never see eye-to-eye, always trying to oust the other. Marty couldn't stand him, whereas Yancy was amused by her. They became rivals.

Eventually, their rivalry evolved. It then became a friendly rivalry. And before they knew it, they shared a mutual attraction for the other. There was no mistaking the look they'd give each other was beyond the friendly rivalry.

Nor could one mistake their intimacy after class hours. They could easily slip away from everyone's eyes and come back like nothing had happened.

Sadly, it just didn't work out.

Or at least, in both Yancy and Marty's vocabulary.

Soon, they found themselves awkward around if both were in the same room.

Slowly, they began to drift away.

Still, they found a way in each other's lives.

When Marty's father died and her mother's condition worsened, leaving a very distraught and broken Marty behind, she changed. She got in the force and she busied herself from the pain, even from Yancy. She became the top of her class – second to Yancy.

And a few months later, she got promoted, the same time Yancy did. He became her partner and everything goes from there.

* * *

"So how's Raleigh?" she asked the moment they hit the lockers. "Heard he's been snooping every now and then."

"So-so, heard he's been causing a ruckus down at the academy." replies Yancy without looking her way.

She chuckles, remembering the last time he tried to hit on her. Oh, that was something. He ended up with his ass whooped.

"Just recently, I also heard his little involvement with the Marshall's daughter."

" _No_ ," she said in utmost shock. "you mean his adoptive daughter? The one even younger than him? That one?"

"That one." he says, laughing.

"What about Jazmine?"

She was rather fond of the youngest Becket, sweet little Jazmine. She was like the sister she never had, having grown up with brothers.

" _She_ ," he says, while focusing on tying his shoes. "on the other hand, is absolutely doing well."

She nods, smiling fondly at the thought. About now, Jazmine's taking Medicine in London, if she's not mistaken.

"I heard that Australian rookie's been hitting on her." she chides, waiting for his reaction. The Becket brothers were particularly protective of their youngest and only sister.

Yancy's pauses, getting back to what he was previously doing, smiling profoundly.

"Jaz is a big girl, I think she can handle herself." He says reassuringly. "Though, I'm not so sure as to how Raleigh would react to this."

"Ah, of course." She chuckles with a roll of her eyes. "Their dumb rivalry."

"Kinda reminds me of us," he said aloud, making her stop. "back at the academy."

Clearing her throat, Marty looked away. Pressing her lips together, she fought to keep the memories at bay. The topic was taboo, it was supposed to be.

But Yancy looked like it had been nothing for him as he stares at her. She rather didn't like his stare, the stony and hard way he was looking at her. And then his eyes, those sinfully captivating blue eyes of his, which reflected the sky when it was about to rain.

"Marty?"

"Hey Arroyo- oops!"

Mentally thankful for Newt's untimely interruption, Marty composed herself before turning to the forensic scientist. From the corner of her eye, Yancy was still eyeing her.

"Newt, what's up?" she asked, trying to sound casual and herself.

His eyes darted from her to him, flustered that he just walked into something. He just has a terrible habit of interrupting.

"T-The, erhm, samples from the body just came in."

 _Good news!_ She thought to herself, but her subconscious said otherwise.

"Alright," pushing herself from the locker, she walks towards the door and looks at her partner. "you coming?"

Despite herself, she can't help the flutter in her belly. She was always good at that, changing the topic.

Huffing, Yancy nods. "Give me a minute."

Biting her lip, she walks out the room and follows after Newt. She missed the way he looked at her, the tired look on his face, or the worried glance of Newt.

* * *

The duo has done it again! Or as their colleagues would call it.

Thanks to Marty's connections, and Yancy's ability to talk through people – and a little help from the forensics, they managed to nab the city's biggest drug syndicates and shut them down for good. It was all in a day's work.

Albeit, given that the last few weeks hadn't been good with the two working around each other as if they were equally robots. Practically, the whole precinct has noticed, but none of them have been brave enough to address the elephant in the room – well, rooms.

Really, the two were an unstoppable duo. But even superheroes like them had a weakness, they were still human. And even humans succumbed to their whims, more or less.

Having left the Commissioner's office, the dark haired female took a quick route to her cubicle, grabbed her keys and left. Along the way, she was met with congratulations from her colleagues, and as much as she can, she smiled at them. Or tried to, her smile was rather forced.

It had been a long day, a productive one at that. And she just couldn't wait to go home.

She walked down the corridors in silence, twirling her keys with her fingers.

When she reached the elevator though, she stopped when in the presence of a familiar figure stood, one she's been avoiding for the past few days. Making her presence known, she clears her throat, slowly walked beside him and waited for the elevator. Beside her, Yancy just stood, tapping his feet to the ground.

"Oh, hey there Arroyo."

"Yancy," she says in turn, trying to sound casual.

"You gonna visit your mom?"

"Uh, no." she shakes her head. "Well not tonight, after everything. I could use the night to sleep off everything."

He smiles, half-smiles. "Sounds like a plan."

"Um, how about you?" she asked awkwardly. "Got any plans tonight?"

"No, no, not really. Just thought I'd go home too and hit the sack." Sucking on his lower lip, Yancy scratched at his nose. The elevator was taking its time on the second floor. "Or maybe before then, I'd check up on the two."

"Why? Anything going on with any of them?"

"Oh, no. Just," sheepishly, he scratches his cheek. "y'know, big brother duties. I wasn't kidding when I said I envy you with having younger siblings, they're less of a handful. You know, Raleigh's like on the other side of the city, and Jazmine on another continent. I worry, you know?"

She couldn't help it, she giggled. He was so adorable when he does that.

"Yance, Raleigh can be a brat, but he can handle himself. Jazmine, on the other hand, I've seen you train her yourself when she was 12! Those two can handle themselves because of you." She rubbed at her neck, massaging her aching muscles. "And mind you, having younger siblings can be quite a handful too, especially with huge age gaps." She looked back up, seeing as the elevator was slowly moving on up. "But then again, regardless of age gaps or younger siblings, life would just be boring without younger siblings."

"Right on that."

Silence fell on the two, the elevator stuck on the third floor.

"So," he started. "are we ever going to talk about-"

"Stop." She said immediately, closing her eyes. She could feel him looking at her, confused, hurt. "Just, no. Stop, stop."

She was doing it again, and she couldn't help it.

As the elevator chimed its arrival, she opened her eyes and looked at the blond, Yancy waves his hand, being the gentleman that he was. So she went in first, with him following. Given that the elevator was old allowed a strong smell of its age, still, it manages well.

It was Yancy who pressed the button to the basement floor, making him lean his body towards her, much to her surprise. She didn't mean to, but he smells so good – all manly and natural. She knew he hated cologne.

She snapped herself back when the door closed. With just the two of them in, Marty felt as if the elevator had shrunken, that the heat went up. It was just the two of them in.

Focusing on her breathing, she watched the numbers go down. There were four floors – five, if you counted the basement, and it felt like forever to the lowest floor. No one had dared to ride the elevator, she thought with a frown.

And what was she thinking? Needing people around to fill in the silence between the two. She couldn't help it. He keeps bringing it up, knowing that it was a taboo topic. And the conversation earlier, how she wanted to punch herself! It was her attempt to stir up a conversation and make him forget. Sadly, it didn't go according to plan.

Suddenly, the power went out, the elevator coming to a sudden stop. The light was flickering on and off until it eventually went off.

"Great," she muttered under her breath, wishing she'd taken the stairs. How cliché was this?

Well, the building was over forty-years old, and time to time the elevator broke down. But still, of all days!

From her side, Yancy kept his silence, frowning. Approaching the buttons, he pressed for the emergency button, but was met with silence.

"Well, that just about proves it." He said aloud.

"What?" she turned to him, adjusting her eyes to the dark.

"That despite the money we make," he sighs, hands on his hips. "we don't have enough for renovating the elevator."

Marty managed to laugh at that, her sentiments exactly.

"So how long are we going to play this game?" he suddenly asked in a dark tone, making her eyes snap open.

"What?" she asked dumbly, looking up at him, meeting his frown.

"Don't act like you don't know, Marty. That's what you're good at, evading the subject, changing the topic. That's what you're always good at." Scoffing, he drawls. "Despite the tough exterior, you can't handle topics of the heart."

Marty lowered her head in shame, he was right about all that. Oh, she was good at intimidating people to get them to talk, but if went the other way, she had the natural talent to deflect. It was just her weakness, and she didn't like showing her weakness. Especially not in front of him – Yancy Becket, who had the ability to read through her since day one.

"So what's your point?"

"My point? Marty, you're making me look like I'm playing a game here."

"Aren't you it, though?" she asked angrily.

He rolled his eyes at her. "Don't be so dramatic, I'm not like that. I'm just the confrontational type, remember?" even at times like these, he can sound so cocky yet calm. She hated it.

"You're so full of yourself." She says intending with every bit to mock him, putting her fist on her forehead.

The side of Yancy's mouth twitches, forming into a smirk. There she goes again, making him want her.

"That's me." His voice sounded husky, making her high on alert, especially when he walks up to her. "The Yancy Becket you knew."

"Yance," she starts with a groan, her body beginning to quiver, she puts a hand over her face. "don't go there–"

"What if I wanna go there?" he challenges, looking down at her. "What are you gonna do about it, Marty?" as he says this, he takes slow steps towards her.

Sensing his nearing presence, she warily took a step back, but it was for naught, for she felt the wall behind her back.

"Yancy," she says quietly, her mouth beginning to dry, addressing the fact that they were the only ones on the elevator. "please. Just…Just let it go –"

"No." came his firm reply, and she could feel his arms at her sides, trapping her in place, allowing no escape. "Like I said – I wanna go back there. So what are you gonna do about it?"

He leans forward, Marty's breathing hitches and she could feel her heart slamming against her chest.

"What we had, Marty?" he said huskily against her ear.

"Y-Yance –"

"It was real."

She didn't know how it happened, since it was all so sudden, but the next thing she knew, the lights went out (explaining how the elevator was getting cranky) and his lips hotly pressing against hers. And before she knew it, she found herself kissing him back.

His kiss was exactly as she remembered – long and hard, full of passion and it boiled her from the inside, making her want to melt on the spot.

She didn't know how long they were kissing (or why the lights just had to die for this), but she didn't seem to care. He nipped at her lower lip, seeking for her permission, to which she delightfully obliged, opening her mouth to welcome his tongue.

Before she knew it, she found herself pressed against the elevator wall by Yancy. She delighted herself in running her hand through his blond hair, fisting clumps of them. And how could she forget the feel of his strong arms around her, his warmth rubbing on her own. She's seen her share of fit men, but Yancy Becket was perfection. He put all those cover models to shame.

Feeling the blood rush to her body, hearing the blood pump in her ears, or the tingles in her belly excited her. Having her senses act up all at once was making her dizzy.

For her, nothing seemed to matter.

Because all that mattered was this, this kiss with Yancy.

This kiss.

It was heated. So full of passion. So much that it made her mind go blank. She couldn't think of anything else but this kiss.

Suddenly, the power returned and they parted – staring at each other's flushed faces.

Realization dawned upon her, pushing him away from her. Quickly, she ran a hand through her hair hastily fixing herself up even when they've reached the basement.

 _What the fuck._

* * *

It was decided, on an unspoken agreement that neither would speak of what happened at the elevator yesterday.

What happened had been nothing more but a spur in the moment sort of thing. A rather heated one though. She tried to get it out of her head, which proved to be a sad attempt. The thought of the kiss kept her up all night.

Although they won't speak of it, doesn't mean Yancy'll let it pass. Typical Yancy Beckett.

So the next day, which happens to be Valentine's Day, she was surprised to find a cup of fresh coffee from McDonald's and a pink card on top of her desk. Taking the card, she read it and found a horribly cheesy Valentine's greet. She laughed.

And soon enough, a deep masculine chuckle followed.

The raven head raised her head, finding the handsome blond before her, carrying a bouquet of flowers in hand.

"Oh, wow." She gasped, returning the card on her desk. "You weren't kidding when you said you were serious."

Rolling his eyes, he held out the flowers to her. Marty wordlessly took them in her hands, her blush evident.

She sniffed the flowers, smiling lightly at its sweet fragrance. Yancy watched, unable to look away.

"So, what now?" she asked.

"Well," Yancy started, shifting the weight of his foot from the other, a rare sight of him embarrassed. "first, we gotta meet chief for that new case. And, how about tonight, I take you out for dinner. Sound good?"

Marty holds his gaze steadily, considering his offer, and then smiles.

"Yeah, it's all good."


End file.
